


Do I want to know?

by thatsprettygood



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Dork Squad, Fan verse, Jervis is vibing, Riddler has a lot of shit going on, Scarecrow is an asshole, no betas we die like men, what more can i say?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:21:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24265795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsprettygood/pseuds/thatsprettygood
Summary: The Scarecrow gives the Riddler cliffnotes on his deepest fears.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Do I want to know?

They did this more often than the Riddler would like to admit. He would call the Mad hatter, (who would ultimately call the scarecrow) and the scarecrow would turn on his shitty little crt. Edward hated when he did that.

Then every call, like clockwork, Hatter would fall asleep, leaving him and the master of fear alone. 

Edward looked up at his own screen. The Scarecrow sat in front of the tv. His claw of a hand in a fist as he scribbled in a black book. He assumed it was a book. The tv made the picture crackle and staticy. 

Suddenly soldering wires seemed dull. It was dull.    
“What are you writing, crow?” The illustrious master of fear told him long ago first names are for friends. Nicknames would have to do. 

“...Is that something you would like to know?”

“Obviously?” 

The scarecrow’s mask opened up into a smile, full of teeth-like things. He couldn't tell how he got the little leds in his soulless eye pits to light up on command. Some cheap parlor trick, he thought uncomfortably as he looked away.

“I’m writing down what you fear most.”

Edward scoffed. 

“What am I afraid of, then? Spiders? The walls of Arkham closing in on me? How droll.”

The scarecrow scooted closer. 

“If that were true, I wouldn’t waste my time.” 

A small chill went up his spine. 

“ Would you like to know what you're afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” Edward spoke. He squared his shoulders and didn't wince when his spine did a perfect impression of rice cereal in someone's mouth.

“When was the last time you left the house?” The Scarecrow asked in a growl.   
“When was the last time you spoke to someone-” Edward opened his mouth, but the Scarecrow made a slow pincer motion with his fingers and he shut it again.   
“- in person?”

Edward sat back. He looked away from the tv and and at his hideout. Electronics and cameras and screens filled the dank space. The wall had hordes of post-it note scales atop faded movie posters. His bed was a mattress on the floor with sheets and blankets that absolutely reeked of his cologne.

“Answer the question.” The Scarecrow’s joy was apparent in his voice.   
“What if I don’t want to?” Edward barked. 

“Then it only proves my point.” He replied, writing a few more lines in his book.   
“Scopophobia. Athazagoraphobia.” 

“What?”

“Allow me to explain.” The Scarecrow straightened up, resting his chin in his closed hand. The smile died but his raspy voice continued emanating from the mask. “Your comfort zone is so limited that you refuse to leave your house. You don’t like talking to people in person because you think they're judging, prodding at you at any given moment- self image is so poor you rather live as a recluse than be perceived...am I getting it right?”

“No.” Edward seethed.   
“I doubt that.” He continued. “Even with your crippling fear of being perceived, you're also terrified of being forgotten. And  _ That _ is why you program virtual worlds where you look like a bodybuilder with glasses.”

Edward was shaking. He was so wrong. He hoped he wouldn't die cringing at how wrong he was.

“Edward.” The Scarecrow asked.   
“ _ Edward _ is for friends.” Edward demanded. 

He held his head in his hands. He was sweating. He stayed in his room because he liked it. He was safe- No- he was safe anywhere he chose to be. He liked being in his room because nobody else was in it. Yeah, that’ll show ‘em. “Riddler. Look at me.”

“No.” He knew Crow couldn’t see him. That didn’t shake the feeling of those beady red eyes boring into the side of his head. 

  
“Do you want to prove me right?”

  
“No!”

That was loud enough to wake the Hatter, who was snoring up until this point. “W- Oh!” He gasped weakly. “Apologises, Hare n’ Mouse. I must have wandered off somewhere.” The Hatter gave a muffled yawn. “Have I missed anything of great importance?”   
“Not especially.” The scarecrow said cooly. “ I think I will retire, however.”

“So soon? Parting is such sweet sorrow-” Jervis mused.    
The tv clicked off. The phone went quiet.   
“Dormouse? Are you still there?”

Edward picked up the phone and held it to his ear. “...Yeah. I’m still here Hatter.”   
“Is something the matter?”   
“N-no. It’s alllll good. I’m just…a little beat.”

“‘ _ What did they live on? _ ’ Said Alice, who always took a great interest in questions of eating and drinking.”

“Treacle.” Edward muttered, feeling very much like he was living in a well himself.

  
“They must have been very ill.” Jervis replied. Edward swore if he didn’t become an ax-wielding maniac Jervis would have been reading storybooks on tv. Not that it mattered.

“Oh, they were dreadfully ill.” 

He sighed deeply. “Hatter, I need to go to bed.”   
“You never finish your story.” Hatter laughed. “Okay Dormouse. Get your rest. Finish up when the sun rises.”

  
“Uh-huh. Thanks.”   
And he hung up. A great weight was lifted off his shoulders and he tumbled out of his chair and into his bed. The feeling of being wrapped up in the overwhelming scent of basil and fruit and sweat washed over him. He squeezed at his pillow. Scarecrow’s red pinpricks for eyes still burned into his brain. 

“No more calls.” He muttered to himself. “No more screens.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the cologne is Obsession from Calvin Klein.
> 
> Jokes aside, I hope this is okay. I have a version of the Riddler I like n wanted to write something. Hopefully its not too ooc lmao


End file.
